Chapter 2: Hesitation
Pronunciation: Azairi (Ah-zur-I)
New York City looked exactly the same as when he had last been here. It didn't take Loki long to follow that sense of dread to Central Park. The pull was even stronger once he had arrived in Midgard. Loki scanned his surrounding, his shoulders tense with anticipation. A few of the buildings were under construction from when he had attempted to rule them, but other than that, nothing had changed. They were all still scurrying around, desperately searching for that sense of higher purpose that they would never find, neglecting the one thing that truly mattered in their short, miserable lives. Each other. Most of them would never realize it until it was too late. They would never be ready for the loss constantly threatening to undo them. Just as he hadn't been ready, when he had finally realized how Odin truly saw him. Not as a son, but as some filth that had been stuck to his shoe when he had returned home from war. That feeling of desperation to prove himself a true Odinson still haunted him at times. He had even attempted to destroy the Jotens to prove himself. In the end, it was irrelevant. Like the humans were now, he hadn't appreciated what he had until it was gone. Even if it had been just an illusion, as Loki knew beyond a doubt now that Odin never saw him as his heir to Asgard. A part of him envied the ignorance of mortals.
Loki was pulled from his thoughts, catching sight of something unusual. Six, tall, thin men in light tan robes were chasing a woman across the park. Their long blonde hair was pulled back in braids and tied at the nape of their necks. Sunlight glinted off the swords tied to their waists, and they ran in a formation that appeared to be intentional. They were soldiers. Anxiety pulled his gaze towards the female. Her dark red hair and smaller build was enough to tell him she wasn't one of them. She was dressed to blend in with the humans, but has the same fair skin and agility that the soldiers had. Probably a half-breed. The desperation was rolling off her, and he knew instinctively that this was the source of the anomaly. Perhaps not her specifically, but them. This wasn't the first time they had come for her. Judging by how long he had sensed the unease in the air, she had evaded them for several weeks now. Something was different this time. They had caught her off guard, or altered their methods of tracking her, so that she hadn't had enough time to react. She was slower than them, and they were gaining ground. Loki's fists clenched at this sides.
Embrie had grown up hearing the wonderful tales of the light Fae. Their unearthly beauty. The grandiosity of their stature and their seductive magics. Glancing behind her now, at the agile way they leapt over obstacles she placed in their path and the way their skin almost shone in the light...she just couldn't see it. Maybe it was the kidnapping and the six months she had spent as their prisoner, but 'unearthly beauty' were not the words she would use to describe them. Terrifying perhaps. Egotistical, cruel bastards. Anything but beautiful.
Her heart beat like thunder in her chest as she twisted around another tree, desperately trying to slow them down. Fear dug its nails into her mind and it was a struggle to even think clearly. She hadn't had enough of a head start this time. She hadn't felt them open the rift between earth and that damned world they were trying to drag her back to. Hatred for them spurred her on, despite the ache burning in her side. She would rather die than go back with them, and she was willing to do anything to ensure it...as soon as she had enough oxygen in her lungs to figure out what that was. The park was full of people. Many of them keeping their heads down, pretending not to see. Some of them staring but not daring to lift a finger in her defense. All she needed was a distraction. Something...anything to pull their attention from her...if only for just a moment. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she felt the cold fingers reaching for her before they ever touched her. She tried to swing around another tree to put something between them, but it was already too late. "No!" She screamed, but there was nothing she could do to keep their icy hands from snatching her, jerking her to a sudden halt. Struggling against them was almost reflexive now, and she was squirming against their hold on her before she even had a chance to catch her breath. Terror raced through her veins. "Let me go!" She snarled as they threw her off balance. She stumbled sideways and lost her footing. The commander, Azairi, sneered at her victoriously, not a single drop of sweat on his skin despite how long they had been chasing her. Before he could tighten his grip on her, Embrie twisted her arm at a sharp angle, gasping at the shock of pain that seared through her joints, but threw her weight into it anyways. The Fae released her to save his own wrist, but before she could regain her balance, the others were on her, pinning her to the ground, the pressure of their weight crushing against her chest and limbs. Suffocating her. She forced the last breath of air from her chest in a shrill scream, praying of the bystanders would do something. Anything.
"Now, that doesn't seem fair." A new voice drawled lightly, as though it were a game.
Embrie barely heard the new voice over her own desperation, but the Fae hesitated, easing up on her to see who had interrupted them. One of the Fae jerked her into a standing position and tied her hands behind her back with a braided silver rope. Embrie grimaced, gasping for breath. She hated those ropes with every fiber of her being. It would sting at least once before she got them off her. Azairi left her to the others and turned to face the intruder. Embrie blew the hair out of her face and peeked around him. At first glance, hopelessness stole over her. Of all the people who could have heard her, it was this oddly dressed thin man who stood at least a foot shorter that Azairi. It didn't exactly inspire hope, but as Azairi stepped towards him, glaring daggers, the stranger squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, meeting his gaze confidently. His black hair fell to the shoulders of this black and green leathers, and his icy blue eyes glinted mischievously. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Six against one? Are you all so afraid of a woman that you dare not face her on more even ground. She must be truly terrifying." He mocked.
Embrie's eyes widened and darted towards Azairi. No one mocked him and survived to tell about it. She began twisting her wrists against the ropes, trying to force them loose. She just needed a little bit of room to slip her wrists out of them. With her hands free, she could take advantage of the distraction and make a run for it.
"Loki Odinson." Azairi says calmly. "Did daddy finally let you out of your cage?"
Loki tilted his head and laughed. "I am a lot of things. Odinson is not one of them, which you would be wise to remember. I won't be as merciful."
A sharp pain went through Embrie's wrists and she could feel blood dripping down her hand. There was the sting. But the rope started to give. While it tightened on one wrist, it loosened on the other.
Azairi laughed coldly, "And if you are wise, you will run back to your father and tell him to stay out of our Lord's business."
"Go back to where you came from, Fae, before you find more trouble than you're looking for. Midgard is under the protection of Thor."
"He can have it." Azairi sneered.
He started to turn his back on Loki, but Loki drew a dagger from his waist, using it to block his path. "Without the woman." Loki orders firmly.
Azairi froze, as though he couldn't quite believe someone had the nerve to threaten him. Embrie could feel the tension in the air thicken. The other Fae were on high alert now, no longer amused by the man who thought he could tell them what to do. Embrie inched back away from them as she continued trying to free her wrists. This was not going to be good. Loki, whoever he was, didn't know what he was getting himself into, and she had no intention of sticking around to see the bloody aftermath. None of the Fae realized she had moved, but Loki's gaze met hers for a split second, and realization shone in them. He had seen. He knew she was going to leave him there. Instead of backing off, though, he lowered his head slightly, in a half nod, as though he were telling her to go. Then his gaze shot back towards Azairi as the broad, angry Fae turned back to face him. "I think I'll take her for myself." Loki taunted him, drawing a second dagger from his belt.
"Unfortunately for you, she's already spoken for." Azairi snarled, pulling a long slender sword from beneath his robes. He'd finally had enough, and he planned to end it quickly. In four months Embrie had only seen Azairi draw his sword once. He was a man who preferred to get his hands dirty. Drawing his sword meant he intended to put an end to Loki himself, not just his interference.
Embrie's breath caught in her chest as the two men clashed. Azairi's longsword sent sparks shooting from Loki's daggers as he blocked the attack. She twisted her wrists harder, wrestling against her conscience now as much as against the rope, ignoring the burn that would probably leave a scar this time. It was one thing to abandon someone who was foolish enough to stick his neck out where it didn't belong, but something else altogether to abandon someone who was knowingly putting his own life in danger to help her escape. She had thought him daft, but this was intentional. Of course, she would be foolish to stick around when his sacrifice was meant to help her flee. His sacrifice would be for nothing, and Embrie had no doubt that it would be a sacrifice. Azairi was not easy to overpower. There was a reason he was commander. Even if Loki did somehow manage to hold his ground, Azairi had five other men with him. Five other men whose eyes were glued to the battle in front of them, cheering their leader on like wild dogs.
Embrie took another small step back away from them, flinching as Loki dodged a swing of Azairi's sword that looked like it was going to decapitate him. Instead, Loki twisted, side stepped and swung his wrist out towards Azairi's side, which he had left undefended by lifting his sword so high. His dagger sliced Azairi's robe, but he wasn't quite close enough to pierce the skin. Embrie finally loosened the rope enough to free one wrist, tearing the skin as she forced her way out of it. The rope was so tight around her other wrist it felt like it was cutting off the circulation, but she would worry about that later. She only needed one wrist free for her to be able to run unencumbered. Just as she turned to run, one of Azairi's men kicked out at Loki, knocking him off balance. Before he could regain his footing, Azairi swung his sword again, forcing Loki to dodge at an odd angle. Loki's feet slipped out from under him. He fell to his side, breathless. He tried to scramble back to his feet and lifted his dagger to defend himself, but Azairi was too quick. He lifted his sword above Loki, aiming for his heart.
"Death it is," Embrie cursed under her breath, and took a running leap at a low hanging branch of the tree, throwing her weight into the swing. She released her grip on the branch right as her feet collided with Azairi's back, making him stumble forward onto his knees. Loki rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by him. Embrie fell towards Loki just as one of Azairi's men pulled his own sword and tried to finish him off. The silver blade went straight through Embrie's shoulder, just below her collar bone. Her eyes swam with the pain. She heard the Fae curse as he pulled the sword from her and tried again. Loki quickly stumbled to his feet, and pulled her with him just as dark spots swam across her vision.
Now she was seeing double. One Loki turned on the Fae who had stabbed her as the other Loki pulled her away from the chaos. She couldn't tell which was the real Loki. Embrie tried to pull out of his grip, but he pulled her further away just as another Loki, and then another, appeared to help block the path of the Fae. Red and blue lights blared sirens in the distance and a crowd was gathering to watch the fight. Someone had actually bothered to call the police, for all the good that would do now.
"Run!" Loki shouted at her.
"Let go of me and maybe I can!" She snarled back, pulling her good arm out of his grip. She stumbled for a moment, the pain searing her shoulder, feeling as though it were moving down through the rest of her. Shadows swam in her vision again, but she pushed them away. Some ridiculous stab wound wasn't going to make her lose her head start. She could hear the Fae shouting behind her, but her heart leapt with relief as she and Loki, one of them at least, vanished into the chaos of the city.